A Yakuza's Gratitude
by Volurin
Summary: Sakura Haruno saved his life. How does he repay her? By kidnapping and making her his mistress of course.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**** Hi all! So I've had this idea playing around in my head for awhile. Not sure if its going to work but I'll let you guys be the judge of that.**

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**Warnings:**** This story will be graphic in terms of killing and maiming. It may also contain scenes of rape and abuse. If you are not comfortable with that type of content I suggest you do not read this story.**

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**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Naruto or any of the characters.**

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**Chapter I - Kidnapped**

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Sakura heaved a gigantic sigh, adjusting the heavy backpack over her shoulder.

Why did it have to be raining now of all times?

The weather bureau was becoming so damn unreliable.

Having been under the impression it wasn't going to rain until tomorrow, Sakura hadn't bothered taking an umbrella to work. Now, as she trudged through the heavy downpour in the direction of home, she was seriously regretting it.

Abnormally pink hair was all but plastered to her face; a white nurse's uniform utterly drenched to reveal the tasteless lingerie that lay beneath. Heaving another sigh, Sakura cursed as her sneaker landed in a deep puddle, flooding the already soaked material. At times like this, she wondered how she managed to keep a rein on her temper.

Hunching her shoulders, Sakura increased her pace only to let out a yelp of surprise as she tripped over something large, catching herself on her palms to find that the obstacle was a man. He lay on his stomach, arms reaching out as though to crawl from where he landed.

"Oh my God! Sir! Sir, are you all right?" Sakura clambered over him and her breath caught in her throat as she beheld his profile. Sharp, aristocratic features with a masculine jaw and prominent high cheekbones. Dramatic, slashing brows sat peacefully above closed lids that flickered every second or so. Hair as black as ebony framed the manly borders of his face; shortly cropped just below the neck.

Whoever he was, he was gorgeous.

Sakura, blushing and giddy, cleared her throat before searching him for injuries, finding that the muscle beneath her hands was taut and strong. It gave her goosebumps that had nothing to do with the rain. Blood stained her hands as her fingers skimmed over his side. A bullet wound. Alarm now rising, Sakura hissed and growled until she managed to push him onto his back only to find deep, burgundy eyes staring at her.

She froze.

And for a reason she did not understand, terrified.

He continued to stare at her, giving no indication that he was in pain, wet or getting continuously soaked in the downpour.

"C-can you stand?"

No answer was offered and with a huff, Sakura opted into nurse mode. Stubborn patients were her speciality and the silent treatment was nothing new to her. Slinging her arm under him and grabbing his other arm, Sakura heaved him into a sitting position, noting with a blush that he was still staring at her. It took a few minutes but eventually, he was standing, towering over her as she helped him towards a pile of storage boxes under the overhang of a side street.

Setting him down, Sakura unconsciously brushed the dark locks from his face, immediately snatching her hand back. God, just because she was a nurse didn't mean she could go around touching people! Clearing her throat, the nurse tried to ignore his penetrating stare. "Wait here. I'll get he-"

As Sakura turned to leave, long fingers ensnared her wrist in an inescapable grasp.

"No." The voice was smooth, deep and velvety like the touch of satin. It almost made Sakura weak at the knees before she understood what he was saying.

"No? What do you mean, no? You're bleeding! That wound needs attention!"

Unblinking eyes stared resolutely back at her.

Sakura faltered and glanced at the fingers still circled around her wrist. Well, she always did keep some bandages and a first aid kit in her backpack. At least she could patch him up. If nothing else. When she explained this to him, he consented and let her go, watching as she tentatively lifted his shirt (which was silk) high enough to reveal the wound. The nurse's cheeks went red to see toned abs and a hairless chest. Shaking her head, she focused on the wound which was not as bad as she first thought.

The wound was superficial; the bullet had passed through his side without hitting any organs or major arteries. Relief flooded her that she wouldn't need to insist on getting him to a hospital. It wouldn't have been easy to persuade a man such as this one. She was gentle as she applied disinfectant with a cotton bud, shifting to collect bandages from her bag.

"You're shivering," the man noted in his soft, lovely voice, eyes skimming over the visible bra through her uniform.

"If you're worried about my fingers digging into your wound, don't worry. I have steady hands." Sakura assured him blindly, and missed the twitch of his lips. "There. All done-eh!"

Sakura squeaked as his hand came down to grasp her jaw, her heart pulsing in her ears as he leaned down with dark eyes. "I, also, have steady hands."

Warm, beguiling lips attacked her own with abandon, his other arm coming to cage her in, holding her close. Sakura sat frozen against him, eyes staring into his own as he leaned back to press his lips once more to hers. He'd just kissed her. A man she didn't know nor had ever met had stolen her first kiss. A dozen sensations cascaded through her body but nothing was more prominent than the burn where their lips had met. A soft _schnik _of a blade startled Sakura out of her revere to see that he was now standing with a knife in hand and a lock of her pink hair in the other.

"I presume you will want some description of gratitude for saving me." The man began softly, studying the piece of hair within his grasp.

Sakura pressed a finger to her lips, dizzy and completely out of it.

"I will see you again." And with a curt nod of his head, he sprinted into the rain, lost to sight.

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"You expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth, Ino!"

"A stud; you ran into - oh, wait, I'm sorry. You _stepped _on the 'wounded stud', bound his wounds, he kissed you and told you he'd see you again. What a load of bull."

"An apparently attractive load of bull." Temari chuckled.

There were times Ino and Temari damn near pushed her to the very brink of madness but Sakura valued their friendship too much to let her temper ruin it. Taking a deep, calming breath through her nose, the pink-haired woman relaxed more sedately into her couch. Ino and Temari also worked at the hospital in the emergency department with Sakura. The woman herself still had difficulty believing it had all happened, yet she had her uneven fringe to prove it.

To think a complete stranger had stolen her first kiss.

It left her downright speechless.

It turned Temari and Ino into a pair of laughing hyenas.

"Fine. Don't believe me. Screw you both. I'm going to bed."

Sakura stormed to her room, ignoring them completely.

She hadn't imagined it.

She was certain of it.

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Maybe she was being paranoid or over sensitive but Sakura just couldn't stop herself from taking the alley route to work that morning, certain there would still be some description of evidence from last night there. Temari and Ino followed her, if only to rub it in that she'd been imagining the whole thing. Rain had washed away whatever blood there had been, but as Sakura scoured the area, she found a small little item next to the storage boxes.

Picking it up carefully, Sakura studied it.

It was a fan of white and red on an intricate silver chain. It looked very expensive.

It had to be his. The man had been wearing silk, for goodness sake.

"See?" Sakura all but shoved the proof under their noses.

"So what? It's a bauble. How do you even know it's his?" Ino said with a raised brow, hands on her hips. Sakura's eyes were momentarily drawn to the wedding band around the blonde's finger and jealously struck her like a kick in the gut. Temari, too, beheld a lovely diamond encrusted ring on her finger.

Both were married.

Both were happy.

Except for Sakura.

"Just a feeling." Fingers tightening around the necklace, Sakura buried it in her pocket before turning away.

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"Sakura, can you do number nineteens observation, please? I've got my hands full with an ECG over here."

"Yeah sure."

Emergency was as flat-out as always. Patients were always streaming in and out with various problems such as a heart attack to something as simple as a cut finger. It was days like these that made Sakura happy. Because it kept her busy. While she was concerned for patients, the concerns of her own life didn't matter as much.

Her mother and father were going through a divorce.

And she was still a single virgin at the age of twenty.

It was enough to dampen a woman's mood.

"Nurse, when is the doctor coming to see me? I've been waiting for an hour." The patient was a middle-aged men with a sprained ankle.

Sakura checked his blood pressure and adjusted the drip to increase the flow of painkillers. "I understand, sir, but the doctors are quite busy. I'm sure you won't be waiting too much longer." She assured him with a bright smile. And quickly retreated before he was able to coerce her into running down a doctor.

The day passed with Sakura doing her normal rounds, occasionally running patient's up to wards for theatre. It didn't happen often but she did enjoy escaping from the chaos of emergency every once in awhile. The woman enjoyed helping others but sometimes they didn't make it easy. That man last night for example.

Her brow furrowed as she scrubbed her hands clean with disinfectant.

Just who was he?

"Sakura, you coming to lunch?" Ino stepped into the washroom, closely followed by Temari. Both were equally splattered in blood causing Sakura to raise a brow.

"Uh...yeah. What happened?"

"Some moron who was on suicide watch slit his wrist; got blood everywhere. He's fine now but damn it. Do you know how hard it is to get blood stains out of a white uniform? Urgh!" Ino grumbled and began wriggled out of the soaked material, struggling over to her locker. Most nurses kept at least two uniforms in the locker room just in case something like this happened.

Temari wasn't blood doused as badly but she was still wrinkling her nose, trying to rinse the blood out with a towel. It wasn't working well.

"Shikimaru is going to be pissed if I have to buy another uniform."

"He goes through more uniforms then you do." Sakura chuckled. "He's still a forensic investigator, right?"

"Gah...yeah. I never hear the end of it."

"If Chouji spends another dime on his uniform again, I'll murder him. I swear. I don't care if a Chef needs to be prim and perfect. We have bills to pay!" Ino complained, throwing a new uniform on and ruffling her hair.

Sakura smiled softly as an argument ensued between her two friends as to which husband spent the most on uniforms annually. The nurse knew they never realised the effect it had on her when they discussed their happy love life. Chouji and Shikimaru treated Sakura like a baby sister; they'd do anything for her but the one thing they couldn't do was find her the right guy.

Ino was suddenly linking their arms, and Sakura was stuck between them as they skipped off to lunch together. They then chattered about anything besides men, including the mysterious man she had saved. The hospital wasn't too far away from a shopping centre so the three made a small, comfortable coffee shop their destination.

"Latte...oh, come to me, baby!" Ino moaned and rushed into the shop, closely followed by Temari who jostled for position with the blonde to be first in line.

"Move over, Ino-pig!"

"Suck on it, Temari!"

Sakura laughed and shook her head. Who could ask for better friends?

"Excuse me. Are you Sakura Haruno?"

Said woman turned in surprise to see a car idling next to the sidewalk with three men dressed in suits awaiting her answer. "Can I help you?"

"You need to come with us, miss."

"I don't need - hey! Let me go!" Sakura yelled, kicking and punching the men as they dragged her into the car. "Someone - help!"

"Sakura!"

"Let her go!"

Sakura struggled in their grip as the door shut and the car raced away from her friends. Something was placed over her mouth and the putrid scent of chloroform filled her senses before she heard and saw no more.

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With a groan, Sakura slowly regained consciousness to find herself still in a car with a couple of men, eyes watching the road. Where was she? Where were they taking her?

"Where am I?" Sakura croaked, coughing at the foul taste of chloroform that seemed to be stuck to her tongue.

"Hong Kong."

"What?!"

Sakura couldn't believe it. When she was conscious she'd been in Japan. Now they were in Hong Kong. What! The car came to an abrupt stop, sending Sakura onto the floor with a loud thump. It was then she realised that her arms were tied behind her back. God, how could she get herself out of this? The door opened and a man dragged her out, forcing her onto her feet with a harsh shove.

"Walk, bitch."

"Don't call me a bitch you f-" Sakura snarled before receiving a backhander to the side of her face. It knocked the breath from her and it was only by biting her tongue did she manage to stop from crying out.

"I said walk, _bitch_." The man's blond hair was tied up into a high ponytail, bringing out the very boyish features of his face.

"Uchiha-sama did say not to touch her, Deidara." A man with red hair and a calm voice said.

"Shut up Sasori." Deidara snarled and gripped Sakura's elbow, much harder than necessary. The woman glared at him from between the strips of pink hair, willing herself not to lose her temper. These men carried guns and she wouldn't put it past the blond to shoot her. They escorted her - more like dragged - up several flights of stairs to an extravagant building littered with Japanese symbols of the same fan she had in her pocket.

What was going on?

Emerald eyes were then drawn to the large letters strewn across the building.

'Akatsuki Organization'.

Where had she heard that before?

Elegant doors swung open to reveal what looked like a throne room; a regal, occupied chair sat at the very end. As Sakura was dragged closer her eyes widened in realisation. Dark burgundy eyes stared at her over the rims of sunglasses, lips quirked into to a devastating smirk. As he stood, the silk suit of ebony fit him like a glove; the white business jacket draping over his shoulders to touch the floor, flared about him.

"She put up a fight, boss." Deidara remarked as he shoved the pink-haired woman onto her knees before the handsome man. "And, she had this in her pocket." The blond tossed the necklace to the man.

The bauble was caught between elegant fingers.

"I see. And how," The man simply glided down the steps, hooking a finger beneath Sakura's chin to raise her head. Sakura glared daggers at him. "Did she get this?" His thumb smoothed over the bruise blossoming across her cheek. She visibly flinched beneath his touch but continued to glare at him.

"She wouldn't listen to me so I- GAH!"

Deidara was knocked to the floor as the man punched him in the face before kicking him in the sternum.

"Touch her again and you won't ever walk again. Is that understood, Deidara?"

"Y-yes, Itachi-sama."

Sakura's eyes widened in realisation and she finally understood where she'd heard it before.

The Akatsuki Organization; an infamous Yazuka group renowned for dealings in Japan.

Offering a hand down, Itachi smiled gently at the woman and helped her to her feet. Bowing over her hand, he pressed a chaste kiss to her knuckles. "We meet again, Sakura. I am Itachi Uchiha, leader of the Akatsuki Organization. I trust your flight was pleasant?"

Sakura ignored him, furious at being kidnapped by a stranger and brought to a different country. "Why am I here?"

"I did warn you I'd see you again." His eyes were darkly amused. "This is my gratitude for you saving me."

"What gratitude?" Sakura snapped.

"Why, allowing you to become my mistress." Itachi's eyes became darkly sinister as Sakura's eyes became wide and frightened. With a low chuckle he straightened and pocketed the necklace. "Take her to my room and see that she is appropriately...dressed."

"No!" Sakura screamed as she was dragged away to her expected future.

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**No? Yes? Please tell me whether you'd be interested to see this story continue.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:**** Hey, guys. Another chapter. Not long, I know but hopefully they'll start getting some length when I get going with the plot.**

**Thank you to everyone that reviewed! I appreciate it and hope you enjoy this story as it progresses through its roller coaster ride. I don't have time to do all the review replies but as long as you know I love you for it everything is awesome!**

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**And yes, to those of you who picked up on it. My idea splurged from the manga Haou Airen. I loved it so much but it was too angsty for me. Though the idea was deprived from it I assure you that the plot is my own. You will notice that in this chapter. XD**

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**Oh and its good to see ****Matsujunchann**** stalking me. You know I love you, and keep trying dearie!**

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**Chapter II - Pinkie & Fish-Face**

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Deidara and Sasori had quite the challenge on their hands. Not only was the nurse verbally aggressive but physically, she was surprisingly strong. Stronger than they had first anticipated. Even Sasori who was usually reluctant to harm a woman had to tighten his grip about her arm to the point she'd have bruises come the morning.

Sakura wasn't going down without a fight, and it took them twenty minutes to entice her up to the boss's rooms. And by entice, there was just a lot of pulling and vaguely obscene threats (by Deidara).

Itachi's room was very technical in the way it was designed; voice activated locks, security alarms and cameras (in particular areas so as not to invade privacy) and a weapon cabinet that beheld a variety of useful equipment. Windows overlooked an extravagant garden that appeared well cared for and maintained.

It was breathtakingly beautiful.

Sakura took all of it in stride; eyes scanning the room to see an adjoining door to what was most likely a bathroom. An ornate desk with a leather back chair sat in front of the large bay window, facing the entrance to the room.

When you had a lovely garden, why would you face the opposite direction!

A large, carefully carved wardrobe lined the entire back wall and Sakura couldn't help but wonder why a guy would need all of that space for clothes. Then again this was the mafia. They took great pride in their appearance. What frightened her the most was the king size monster bed at the far end, cloaked in find silks of red and white with too many pillows to count. Were those handcuffs attached to the bed head? Dear God.

Portraits and paintings of various dignitaries lined the wall; a crystal chandelier giving just the right amount of light from the ceiling. Sakura was so enthralled with the sheer majesty of the room that she almost forgot about Sasori and Deidara.

Almost.

"Well, bitch, your clothes are on the bed." Deidara announced with a sly grin.

Sasori glanced at Deidara out of the corner of his eye.

Sakura turned her attention to the behemoth of relaxation and worse things. There weren't any clothes. What was he talking about? And then a sickening idea came to mind. Itachi's idea of a change of clothes was nothing. Literally. The nurse's uniform wasn't leaving her person if she had anything to say about it. Glaring daggers at the blond, Sakura carefully placed her feet apart, hands clenching behind her back, testing the restraints.

"Take off your clothes."

"No." Sakura bit out.

"I said now, bitch." Deidara went to grab her, probably to yank at her hair.

Now was her chance. Dropping to the ground, Sakura went down on her back, kicking her heel high to score directly in the blonde's crotch. He went down with a groan of pain, clutching himself. Sasori was next in the line of fire as the nurse swiftly punched him in the side of the knee, crippling the red-head before he had a chance to react. What Sakura didn't expect was for Deidara to recover so quickly and screamed in frustration as a strong, lightly muscled arm went around her chest whilst his hand caught her wrists.

"Ninjitsu, eh? Didn't figure you for a fighter. You'll regret that though, bitch. I assure you."

"Deidara." Sasori snapped warningly.

"Yeah, yeah."

"You won't get away with this." Sakura snarled at them and faltered as their lips quirked into smiles.

"You are in Hong Kong. Itachi-sama owns half of Japan as it is; any attempt of searching for you will be diverted." Sasori said matter-of-fact.

"Not to mention that we already have. You're in the boss's room, bitch." Sakura wriggled in Deidara's grip and gave a squeak of embarrassment as his fingers fondled her breasts. Red flooded her cheeks in anger and without room for thought, the woman jerked her head forward and back, head butting him in the chin. The sharp clack of teeth knocking together and the absence of an arm around her chest meant it had done its job.

Scuttling away on hands and knees, Sakura clambered to her feet once she was out of their reach. Sasori merely appeared bored with her show of defiance. Deidara's mouth was bloody and the emotion burning in his eyes was very clear. He would pay her back in double. With all the ruckus, Sakura's restraints had loosened and she was very careful to hide that fact from the two men.

"I think the kitten needs her rest." Sasori helped Deidara to his feet, holding the other man back. "Leave it, Deidara. You kind of deserved it."

"Shut the fuck up. You. Bitch." Deidara pointed a longer finger at her. "You'll pay for that, you hear me? I'll ask Itachi-sama to let me borrow you for just a night and fuck you bloody!"

Sakura shivered at his words, more than a little alarmed. Why on earth would he do that?

Any further rants from Deidara were cut off as Sasori tugged him through the door. The lock clicking into place was the final straw. Sakura wasted no time in exploring the room for possible exits or impenetrable hiding places. The bathroom was huge with a shower and Jacuzzi; the windows were barred from the outside, No escape that way. On further investigation (after throwing a chair at it), Sakura discovered that all the glass in the room was bullet proof and unbreakable. Her next assessment was the ceiling. There were vents for the air-conditioning but it would take a large ladder to get up there.

The weapon cabinet was decorated with a variety of voice activation and motion detector machines. Sakura swore colourfully for behind the glass were Japanese swords and a very impressive display of handguns. No way of getting one out even if she had a drill. There was no way in hell she would just sit down and cry. There had to be a way out of this predicament. She didn't even have the heart to think she shouldn't have helped him. He was a person in need, and she couldn't take it back for the world.

Pillow cases, draws and the elaborate wardrobe became her next target for infiltration. The bathroom contained nothing dangerous that was capable of incapacitating someone. Unless of course she wanted to whack someone with a hairdryer it was a no go. Or maybe a toothbrush of doom...no. Silk was draped everywhere by the time the woman had gone through the entire bed, combed under the mattress and checked the frame beneath. Nothing. Not even a pin. Or a loose nail.

The wardrobe was more extensive and contained heaps of perfect, masculine clothes. Lots of shoes. And numerous, expensive watch brands not to mention a few sunglasses that would cost an arm and a leg. There wasn't a hidden gun in a shoe box or a deadly sword hidden behind the wardrobe. The room was utterly clear of anything dangerous save what lay in the weapon cabinet.

Stranger still, was the fact that her entire wardrobe of clothes and belongings were packed into the end of the wardrobe. She left them there, despite being unnerved with the fact they were in this room. There would come a time when she would have an explanation as to how her clothes got to Hong Kong. After all, she couldn't have been out long. A couple of hours? They would have had to have it all planned out to kidnap her and raid her house.

Freezing as she kneeled on the floor, the idea became a sickening reality. That was it. When she'd gone to work, they had raided her house to gather her belongings. And if that was the case, Itachi had planned her capture from the very moment she'd helped him.

Sakura stood on shaky legs and peered about the room.

The bed was a mess.

The floor was scattered with various clothes and shoe boxes.

And for the life of her, she didn't give a damn what his reaction would be when he saw what she had done. All she wanted to know was why in the hell her clothes and various other objects were in his wardrobe!

Almost as an afterthought, she tried the handle of the glass door that led out into the garden.

Locked.

Why had this happened? Why couldn't he just accept that she'd helped in a time of need and let that be the end of it. Who did shit like this? Sakura didn't get patients kidnapping her just because she helped them. Normal people gave her chocolates and occasionally tickets to a show. One man even asked her out on a date (even if he was ninety it still counts). But kidnapping and being shoved into the role of a mistress? No way.

Just what was a mistress anyway?

Was Sasori telling the truth? Would it be impossible for people to search for her? Temari would get Shikimaru to pass the message on in his department, and the police would start searching for her. Unless Itachi owned the police in Japan. That would not spell well at all.

Ino knew many, many people and if someone happened to be venturing to Hong Kong, maybe they would see Sakura and let her friends know.

Dragging her fingers through the pink mess on her head, Sakura tried to stop her nerves from getting the better of her but it wasn't working. This was unknown territory and even her experience in martial arts would not protect her if they decided to kill her. Counting to ten out loud, Sakura focused on her breathing exercises that her sensei, Kakashi Hatake, had encouraged her to practise to control her temper. For a time it worked and the environment gradually slipped away; a peaceful existence surrounding her inner thoughts before voices broke her out of the meditation.

"Boss has a new plaything I heard." A deep, growling voice murmured.

"Small fucking tits and a large fucking forehead. I can't see why he can be bothered. I wouldn't fuck that."

Digging nails into the palm of her hands, it was all Sakura could do to quell the anger. Taunted ever since she was a child, there was only so much a person could deal with. Her only outlet was punching the person in the face. And she couldn't do that because the door was between them.

"Hidan, she can probably hear you."

"What do I fucking care if she can hear me, Kakuzu?" Sakura flinched in surprise as the door shivered with the force of a punch against the wood. "You hear me in there? Ask me if I fucking give a damn!"

Wisely remaining silent despite her urge to scream back at him, Sakura waited until he gave up baiting her to reply and moved away. Their footsteps departed from the door, continuing a discussion about small breasts and how a person developed a large forehead. Releasing a heavy sigh Sakura paced the expanse of the room, tripping over pieces of discarded clothing. The sun creeping across the floor was the only idea she had of the time.

Shadows began to encase the room as the sun gradually dwindled from sight. Sakura's stomach grumbled. How long did they intend to keep her in here? Thirstiness became such a problem that the woman was forced to drink from a tap in the bathroom, much to her disgust. In her anxiousness and rage, Sakura had tipped over the nearby dressing table for lack of anything else to do.

"If he wants to keep me trapped in here like an animal then I'll act like one!" Sakura snarled to herself, arms folded as she paced across the floor, kicking silk pillow slips out of her way.

Glancing up at one of the cameras, Sakura froze as she realised it was tracking her movements.

She was being watched all the time.

"Let me out of here!" Sakura screamed at the camera and stuck her middle finger up for good measure. When nothing out of the ordinary happened, the pink-haired female grabbed the previously abused chair and sent it flying at the windows of glass. It vibrated from the impact but the only thing that suffered appeared to be the chair. All the legs were cracked and splintered. That gave her an idea.

Throwing the chair at the glass one last time, she smiled in relief as one of the legs splintered and broke off. It was small enough to hide in her nurse's uniform, between her breasts, and likely sharp enough to slip between a rib. Hopefully. Footsteps alerted her to people on their way and panic instilled in her veins. What would they make of the mess? Before she hadn't cared, but now she knew that they had been watching left room for thought.

What walked into the room this time almost had her crawling under the bed.

"Itachi-sama requests your presence for dinner, pinkie."

Pinkie was a first. Sakura reluctantly took a step back from the tall, behemoth of a man. His hair was cropped short and spiky at the front. Dyed blue it would appear. He had filed his teeth until all were sharp. Eyes that were almost black fixed squarely on her emerald ones before giving her a slow, calculating once over. Sakura shivered; just the look he gave her made the flesh on her body want to crawl away and hide.

"You can tell him to stick his request where the sun don-"

Guns, she had assumed, would be the weapon most seen in this place. The huge ass sword an inch away from her nose said otherwise. Sakura did not dare move, cringing as the strange man revealed his wickedly sharp teeth in a sinister smile.

"You got two choices. Move your ass out that door as you are or over my shoulder as naked as the day you were born."

Given the limited number of choices and the glittering steel barely an inch from chopping her face off, Sakura was resigned to admit defeat. For the moment. And how many times did the naked threat have to be thrown at her? The pink-haired nurse was positive Itachi had a dress laid out on his bed for her, and Deidara had taken it. Bastard.

"Fine but don't call me pinkie."

"I'm Kisame, pinkie. Consider me your watch dog for the evening. You put a toe out of line and you'll be wearing it around your neck. Got it?"

Sakura narrowed her eyes at him, thoroughly off put by the sharp groves of his face more than his threat. Whether it was genetic or some mishap during childhood there was no mistaking the fact that he looked like a fish.

An ugly, deformed, human fish. And his skin had an odd blue hue to it. Pointing it out to him seemed a fairly bad idea as he picked up on the assessment displaying in her eyes.

"You ain't pretty either, pinkie. Shall we move on?" Kisame swept out of the room without waiting for an answer. The audacity of this man was uncanny. He expected her to follow.

Sakura's stubborn streak raised its head before she smothered it. Attending dinner naked over a man's shoulder was not at the top of her itinerary. And as long as she didn't lose a toe she would behave. For now. Kisame led her through a series of hallways and rooms. Though it hadn't appeared large from the outside, inside was extensive and very easy to get lost in.

Not only that but there were men...everywhere. Always walking past or sticking their heads out of a room to watch her as she went by. Sakura ignored the stares, more interested in trying to map out the place so it was easy to escape from when the opportunity presented itself. If it ever did.

Itachi's taste in décor differed from modernised to Japanese culture, from statues to pots and various paintings that were both beautiful and seemed to represent sorrow and suffering. It gave Sakura the creeps and without even realising it, she kept on Kisame's heels, damn near stepping on them when he came to a halt in front of her. Instead her face smacked into his broad back.

"Ow." Sakura cupped her nose, blushing as the man glanced over his shoulder with a feral grin before stepping to the side.

They had apparently arrived in the dining hall if the long, gigantic table in the middle was of any indication. Food of various kinds and sizes were placed all along the table, and at its head was none other than Itachi Uchiha. A wine glass sat clasped in his hand, the red liquid swirling as he casually tilted it in circles. Sunglasses perched stylishly on his black locks, the white overcoat hanging over his broad shoulders. Sakura knew she was staring and hastily looked at her feet as Kisame sniggered.

"Miss Haruno. How kind of you to join me. Please," Itachi raised his hand, palm up. An invitation.

Sakura's eyes went from his hand to the previously inconspicuous men lining the walls. Sasori and Deidara were on one side, watching her carefully though the blonde's look was far more vicious. A man with seek silver hair and a vast majority of his chest bare to the world stood with another man who appeared equally intimidating with a mask over his face, revealing nothing but his creepy eyes. The nurse gulped and shuffled towards the table, the silence deafening.

Moving her chair out was like nails going down chalkboard. Sakura nearly fell over it in her haste to seat herself before she made anymore undue noises. Someone cleared their throat. Another sniggered. They were all making fun of her. Blushing with anger, the woman stared at her pristine white plate and wondered vaguely how much it cost.

_For crying out loud. You're not a tourist here, moron, you're a prisoner!_

"I take it you did not find what you were searching for in our bedroom." The sleek, masculine voice brought her out of inner musings. Sakura's neck cracked with the force in which she raised her head to look at him, eyes almost bugging out of their sockets.

"I beg your pardon? Our room?" Sakura's heart palpitated. He knew. He knew she had trashed his room. And why would he refer to it as 'ours'?

Eyes of dark obsidian gazed levelly over the rim of his glass, almost bored. "You live here now. It is only fitting that it be 'our' room."

More sniggers from the men lining the walls. Sakura was too flabbergasted to care.

"Kidnapping someone does not mean they now live with their captor. I want to go home. Who the hell gave you the right to break into my house and take my belongings!?" Sakura's body was visibly trembling, both in rage and anxiety. "To take me! I don't belong to you. And you don't owe me anything!"

For all intents and purposes, there was no other name for it.

He ignored her. Entirely. She may as well have spoken to a brick wall.

Staring at him, Sakura willed him to answer. To look at her. To do something! Instead he had gone back to sipping indulgently at his wine, bundles of paper splayed out before him. Never had she been ignored like this before; maybe as a joke or payback but not because she was beneath someone. That was it. So high and mighty as he was, someone like Sakura was beneath his notice when it pleased him. Bristling indignantly, Sakura glared at him, hoping he would burst into flames simultaneously. Wishful thinking.

Where it had been manageable before (if only by drinking tap water), her parched throat was now becoming a bother. And having a glass of water sitting in front of her wasn't helping matters. And being stubborn and refusing to eat would only drain strength. Wrapping her fingers around the cool glass, Sakura resolutely tipped the refreshing liquid into her mouth, almost moaning as it chased away the dryness.

Food shortly followed; anything within hand's reach was soon waiting on her plate to be devoured. Sakura knew that they were watching her but didn't care. Quenching her hunger was more important at the moment. Aside from Itachi casually flickering through his paper work and the dull clink of meal utensils, the room was silent. Sakura glanced up from her helping of chicken, meeting Deidara's eyes from across the room.

Traces of blood had stained the corners of his lips and Sakura just couldn't help grinning at him.

"Yo, boss, You going to fuck her tonight?" Deidara said snidely and the smile disappeared from Sakura's face.

What was he talking about?

Sakura watched Itachi, feeling her pulse thundering in her ears as the man continued to flick idly through his paper and sip his wine. And in a second everything changed; the sharp bang of a gun going off and Deidara's startled cry. The blond stared at the bullet hole just millimetres away from his head, Sasori equally disturbed as he'd been right next to Deidara.

"Sasori, I believe it's time for you and your partner to do the rounds." Itachi said without glancing up from his readings, placing his gun pointedly on the table.

"But-" Deidara begun tentatively.

Dark eyes centred on the two and Sasori and Deidara scattered before he could shoot them.

Sakura sat timidly in her chair, unable to tear her eyes away from the gun that was still emitting tendrils of smoke. How anyone could so easily raise and shoot a gun without even looking was terrible. Glancing at him again, the woman squeaked to see him leaning against his hand, dark lashes framing the endless depths of his almost black eyes as his lips tilted upwards at the corners. Just that look was enough to send her pulse hammering.

"You're terrified of me. Do you wish you hadn't helped me?"

"I'm not terrified of you and yes, I do wish I'd left you in the rain to bleed to death." Sakura lied through her teeth.

Chuckling darkly, Itachi rose from his seat, elegant fingers collecting the paper in a neat and tidy order. All eyes were on him, and Sakura used the opportunity to discreetly grab the aforementioned wood shard from its hidden place in her bra and hid it in the pocket of her nurse uniform. If any of them dared to touch her or so much as looked at her funny, she'd eviscerate or castrate them. As the leader of the Akatsuki mafia moved around the table in her direction, Sakura kept her eyes on him, gingerly inching her hand inside her pocket.

Just a bit closer.

He had his gun in one hand and the pile of paper in the other.

What better chance did she have?

Sakura leapt from the seat, knocking it to the ground only to be buffeted by paper. Sheets floated around her, momentarily blocking her view of Itachi. With a wild cry, she brandished her pathetic weapon and surged forward to where she'd last seen him. Warm, strong fingers captured her wrists whilst something metallic was shoved against her stomach. The breath knocked clean from her gut, the woman coughed and spluttered, seeing through blurry vision that she was leaning against him.

And that changed in an instant. Using her wrists as leverage, Itachi forced her against the table, bending her backwards with the gun grinding resolutely against her stomach. Sakura could feel the pulse in her throat; the blood pumping through her body as she wearily gazed up into obsidian orbs that were dark and unreadable.

Itachi leant down until their noses were almost touching. Sakura did not dare look away and tried very hard not to show how much pain she was in. His grip on her wrists would undoubtedly bruise her and the gun was an insistent pressure against her stomach.

"Drop it." Itachi said softly.

The wood splinter dropped with a soft _tock _to the table.

"This can be easy or it can be hard, Miss Haruno."

"Let me go! This is illegal and wrong!" Sakura hissed at him, whimpering as the gun dug unforgivably into her gut.

Raising a fine eyebrow, Itachi lessened the pressure on the gun and instead pulled it down. Sakura sank her teeth into her lip as the weapon was placed between her legs, idly brushing against her panties as dark eyes watched her steadily. What could she do? He was bigger and more powerful. And inclined to torture her with a weapon in the oddest of places. But the torture she was imaging was far different than to the sensation he inflicted upon her as the gun came flush with her clit.

The chilling steel of the metal rent her body into a sudden spasm, unsure of how to take the intrusion. Sakura whimpered, legs trembling as her body acclimatised immediately to it and reacted accordingly. Red flushed into her cheeks and down her neck as she distinctly felt her body betraying her; warmth flooding into her lower abdomen. Itachi's hold was so strong and accurate that the ability to thrash was lost to her.

"And...what makes you think I care?" Itachi Uchiha murmured next to her ear.

Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the pressure was gone. Sakura fell limply to the floor onto her backside, utterly pathetic without the support of Itachi's body. The want to crawl under the table grew to a substantial level as the two remaining men could barely contain themselves. Kisame however was stoic glancing once at Itachi before switching his gaze to the confused woman who just didn't know what to say or do.

"I will return later. See to it that she is looked after." Itachi ordered to Kisame, obsidian eyes roving to the gun in his hand. As an afterthought he raised the gun to his lips, running just the tip of his tongue over the top. "Hmm. Peaches. Just as I thought."

Sakura recovered from her lapse of mental wellbeing, saw what he did and screamed, "You perverted asshole!" Itachi was striding away, his white overcoat billowing behind him. "Don't you dare walk away from me! How dare you do that to me! You'll-"

"Do you want him to do it again?" Kisame muttered pointedly, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"No!" Sakura snapped, annoyed that her body was still kicking into a response from the use of the gun.

"Then don't give him a reason to, pinkie."

"Stop calling me that...you...you...fish-face!"

Kakuzu and Hidan burst into laughter again.

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**Like it? Hate it? Think it was weird or hot? Or not enough of either? Please give me your opinions. This story needs them. If Itachi goes too out of character tell me! Same with all the other characters. Just to reign me in 'cause I may get a little carried away with some of the things I'll make them do. Mwahaha.**

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**If people don't like this I'll cry.**

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**If people don't throw stones or flame me to the point of insanity, an update shall hopefully be either next week or the week after. Now, on to The Lesson of Purpose! Ciao, dearies!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**** I know its a short chapter but I has a good excuse! I is sick and I didn't have ample opportunity to do heaps of pages. And I didn't wanna leave you guys waiting any longer so...at least appreciate that much. XD**

**Thank you all so very much for reviewing! I don't have time to do reply's today as I am still sick and utterly sore all over. X_x Hopefully I'll be able to do that next chapter.**

**I love you all!**

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**Chapter III - What Is A Mistress?**

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'Fish-face' got her back for the unsightly nickname by ordering her to pick up every single piece paper that lay scattered about the dining room. Not only did she have to collect them but also sort them into category and date order which turned out to be difficult and frustrating. Though it did give her some insight as to what Itachi dealt in; weapons, poisons, cars and several white collar businesses. Just what is to be expected of a Yakuza.

Kakuzu and Hidan resembled hyenas as they giggled and howled with laughter as Sakura chased the numerous sheets of paper about the room. It wouldn't have been a problem to collect them before some smart ass decided to put the air conditioner on full.

Eventually Hidan and Kakuzu retreated back to wherever it was they appeared from in the first place, leaving Sakura and Kisame in relative peace. If you could call it that with the whir of the air conditioner and the irritating rustle of loose paper.

Sakura made sure not to look at a single page for too long just in case Kisame caught on to what she was doing. If she was able to scour the letters for information, something may be useful in order for her to escape alive. But there was nothing; nothing that could assist her, unless taxation could help the imprisoned. Sighing, she gathered the few bundles and went to hand them to Kisame when he shook his head at her.

"I 'ain't doing your work for you, pinkie. Come on. We'll put them in his office."

We was starting to sound a lot more like 'you'.

Reluctantly, the nurse followed him back through the maze of hallways to walk straight into a gargantuan office styled similarly to the rest of the building except this seemed to be far more personal than Itachi's bedroom. Picture frames extended across a large, mahogany desk, capturing images of a family at play. Sitting at a dinner table. A younger Itachi and a smaller dark-haired boy were both smiling at the camera. So Itachi had a family? Who would have guessed. Something was very familiar about the younger boy but Sakura just couldn't put her finger on it.

She knew him. She was sure of it.

"Put them there." Kisame's voice growled over her revere and Sakura jumped in response, flushing as he guffawed. A strangely sharp nail was indicating to the centre of the desk and without further comment, she placed the bundles and stepped away.

"Who is that? In the photo next to Itachi?"

Kisame glanced at the photo frames before quirking a brow. "Address him as 'Itachi-sama', pinkie otherwise his gun will pay you another visit." He pointedly ignored her gaze as her emerald eyes tried to burn to him to cinders. "And why do you care?"

"I don't." Sakura snapped, utterly irritated at his insinuation towards the gun. Despite what her body had thought of the chilling metal, mentally she hadn't appreciated it at all. It was an invasion of personal space and total arrogance on Itachi's part. Already she was getting the impression that he was a man used to getting whatever he wanted, when he wanted it.

That shit had to change.

Kisame revealed his sharp teeth in a grin before stalking out of the room. "Come on. We've gotta go clean up your other mess now."

Sakura just about fell flat on her face in surprise. Trashing a room that didn't belong to you and not expecting any repercussions was a stupid move on her behalf. Part of her had assumed that it would magically rectify itself or Itachi had lots of maids at his disposal. Fish-face then informed her when she'd queried the fact that though they did have maids, Itachi-sama would not have them cleaning up an unnecessary mess made by, and he quoted, 'a little girl'.

Talk about ignorant pigs. Yes, she had trashed his room. But the asshole had kidnapped and made her a prisoner! How in the hell did that make her a little girl? By Sakura's recollection (besides screaming at the cameras) her actions had been entirely defensive and well deserved. A little girl wouldn't have been capable of scouting the area for possible escape routes and attempting to incapacitate grown men.

"So where should we start?' Kisame said slyly as he inserted a card into the door; it automatically swung open to reveal the trashed room.

And by 'we' meaning 'you', Sakura grudgingly glanced over what she had done. A shame that it had to be done. Such a splendid, stylish room completely torn asunder by the nurse's rage. Itachi's accessories covered the floor in an array of patterns and styles. At least she hadn't obeyed an impulse to cut them. All in all, it was a mess and now she had to fix it. Eye twitching, Sakura spun about, arms folded only to falter when her nose almost came flush with a well-tailored vest. Kisame towered over her, mimicking her stance with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not doing it."

"Pinkie, if I have to call Itachi-sama over, you're gonna be in big trouble."

Being pressed against a table. Cold metal inside her legs. Onyx eyes smoking above her. Did she really want to be exposed to that again? Fear curled through her nerves but it wouldn't get a hold. Not today. For as long as she could, Sakura would fight against this injustice. And it would start by refusing to fix what she had done.

"Go for it. See if I care." And with every single hair on the back of her neck protesting, Sakura turned her back on Kisame. It was definitely a mistake.

A strangled yell stole through her throat as her hair was suddenly pulled taut and she was yanked back against a solid chest; a muscular arm locking over her chest. Kisame growled lowly beside her ear and from the corner of her eye she could see he was amused by her display of defiance. Fire burned along her scalp; the more she struggled, the more he pulled. Even trying to pry his hands away was a lost cause.

"You think we can't hurt you? You're wrong, pinkie. As long as there isn't any permanent damage, we have permission to bring you in line. Well, I do anyway." His voice was sinister; hot breath blowing against her cheek.

Sakura could feel her heart beating a wild rhythm, activating a fight or flight reflex. And by God she would choose fight for as long as she was able until an opportunity for flight presented itself. Adrenaline rushed through her system, spurring muscles and joints into action Sakura bit the inside of his elbow. Kisame hissed through his teeth and lessened his hold just enough to give her leeway to move. A fierce jab to his instep followed through with an elbow to the ribs saw her free of his clutches.

Pivoting around in her foot, Sakura aimed a round house kick at Kisame's mid section while sending her fist at his face. What she wasn't expecting was for him to block her foot and grab her wrist only to counter by kicking her legs out from beneath her. Sakura went down fast and hard with a groan, squirming as Kisame pinned her with his weight. Suffocating her.

"I'm not a push over like Sasori and that female Deidara. You best learn that, pinkie."

Sakura lay still beneath him, fuming in a silent rage. In classes concerning martial arts, Kakashi had always told her that she was one if his fastest and strongest students. What good did that do here? These were all experienced martial artists and possibly combat specialists seeing as they dabbled in swords and guns. Kisame was a swordsman at heart but it hadn't taken much for him to knock her down a peg or too.

A finger roughly jabbed the back of her head, shaking her out if inner musings.

"Ow!"

"I'll let you up if you behave. Be a good girl and clean up your mess."

Where was the ability to use telekinesis when you needed it? A large bowl that probably cost more than her house was displayed beautifully on top of the wardrobe. Sakura had a nice thought going that it would look awesome smashed to smithereens over fish-face's head.

But there was naught she could do. Physically outmatched and nearing wits end, Sakura decided that tomorrow she would not bend no matter what they did. And then they would know just how much trouble she was capable of causing.

Obscene gun threats or not, Sakura would not let Itachi get away with this injustice.

"Fine." Sakura said levelly, trying to sound nonchalant; given the fact that she was talking to the carpet, her attempt was rather admirable. The amount of restraint to control her temper was causing her hands to shake.

Kisame seemed to think she was frightened and lessened his weight on her. "See? Not so hard is it?"

Better him to think she was afraid rather than mad even if it did dent her pride.

Cleaning up the room was a more daunting task than it had first appeared. Sakura had assumed it would just be a simple matter of placing everything back in its original home. It wasn't that easy. The watches had a particular order they were placed in from band, size and how often Itachi used them. Kisame took his time in remembering where they had to be placed and Sakura tried very hard to behave herself as he deliberately stalled.

Next were the clothes which were doubly worse than the watches. These had no particular order save what Itachi liked to wear the most; a mix of suits with grey and black with the line receding to odd-coloured suits that appeared to be antiques. Probably a present from his parents at some stage. Sakura glared at her poor collection of clothes at the end of the wardrobe, bitting her tongue as Kisame assessed them with something akin to amusement.

"No short skirts or revealing tops. Aren't you a bore." Kisame snickered.

Back straight, Sakura marched over to the bed and began reorganising the pillows and replacing pillow slips. Making the bed and righting the mattress was easy enough but the supervision was distracting the woman. Kisame didn't lend a finger to help (not that she expected him to) and simply hovered nearby, watching her like a hawk. The scrutiny was unnecessary. Where would she go? He had closed the door on his way in and locked it with his access card.

Wood splinters were dotted along the floor where the chair had snapped and finding those without treading on them was no easy task. And Kisame wouldn't let her use a vacuum cleaner. So crawling about on her hands and knees, Sakura picked up every splinter she could find, adorning her hands with a few when she didn't see some of the smaller ones. They'd have to be picked out later and she doubted they would give her a needle in which to do it.

After righting the coffee table and cleaning up the smashed porcelain baubles that had sat upon it, Sakura took a deep breath and turned expectantly towards Kisame to see him striding away towards the door. The gleaming, massive sword upon his back was enticing and before she even thought about it, Sakura chased after him in order to steal it and use it as a weapon.

What she wasn't expecting was for the sword to electrocute her the moment her fingers touched the handle. With a yelp Sakura buried her stinging hand under her armpit, trying to lessen the pain as Kisame glanced over his shoulder with a sly grin.

"Samehada doesn't like other people. Best you don't touch it. Sleep well, pinkie. You've got an interesting day ahead of you tomorrow." With a guffaw Kisame left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Sakura glared at the wooden door for a moment before throwing her hands into the air with a frustrated growl. Flesh protested and reminded her she still had wood splinters in her hands. The bathroom, though not equipped with deadly weapons, did have a medical kit and Sakura wasted no time in searching for tweezers. Eventually her fingers wrapped around cold steel and her prize was a small pair of splinter-removing genius. Getting the splinters out was a hiss and spitting affair but the consultation prize was a dozen wicked splinters littering the bathroom sink. Adding standard disinfectant to the small wounds, Sakura decided that there was nothing more she could do.

Though the urge to have a shower was tempting, she dare not. There was no telling who would suddenly burst into the room announced. Giving her tired, haphazard reflection a fleeting scowl, Sakura dragged herself back into the bedroom, glancing up in surprise as the overhead light flickered.

It seemed to go on and off before flickering off completely and despite Sakura's attempts at turning it back on at the wall, it did not spark back to life. They obviously had control of all the electrics within the room. Just another thing to piss her off. If it hadn't been for the large windows allowing streams of moonlight into the room, Sakura would have been fumbling around in complete darkness. Glancing at the freshly reorganised bed, the woman shook her head and sat down in the far corner of the room, wrapping her arms about her legs.

If he expected her to sleep in that bed, he had another thing coming.

The quiet chirp of crickets and the lulling sound of water even through the thick bullet proof glass was enough to put Sakura into a false sense of security until the quiet whir of a camera caused her to jolt upright. A hiss escaped her lips as the back of her head made contact with the wall. One of the cameras moved and stopped when its lenses was facing her. So they searched the room to find her. Assuming they had night vision installed, Sakura stuck her middle finger at it before curling against the wall, mind working to devise defence tactics and escape routes.

If she could find some blueprints of the Organisation that may be enough for her to get an idea how to get the hell out without being detected. The darkness of the room wasn't a comfort but a reminder that she was in a strange, dangerous place with men that had no regard for a woman's feelings. Closing her eyes, Sakura knew she needed to get some description of sleep. Kisame had hinted she had things to dread tomorrow and she didn't doubt it. And if Itachi returned to his room tonight, the bad things could start early.

Sakura dropped into an uneasy sleep, fraught with the worried faces of her friends and dark, onyx eyes. If sleeping on the floor hadn't been bad enough, the fact that she started shivering was the cherry on her night. Tempting though it was to take solace in the bed, she didn't dare. Not when it was his.

Weary, emerald eyes peered through the dark to see said bed was now occupied. Fear captured nerves and muscles, all but locking her against the floor as she waited for movement. White noise assaulted her senses as her hearing strained to catch any sound that could be movement. When none was forthcoming Sakura relaxed slightly before standing to tip-toe towards the bed. Either he didn't feel the cold or he was just doing it to make her life hell.

One way or another Itachi Uchiha was buck naked with the sheets just draped over his feet. Even with the faint light from the moon, it wasn't difficult to tell he had a fine body. Sakura turned away so fast she almost fell on her face, feeling the heat flush her cheeks. Naked patients weren't rare in hospital but good-looking, toned specimens were a sight for sore eyes.

_Idiot. He kidnapped you! Don't frickin drool over his body like a bitch in heat. Che...but he is...hot._

_And he put a gun down there. Way to start a relationship..._

Flustered and more than a little sleep deprived, Sakura glanced tentatively over her shoulder for a little peak. A shriek escaped her lips when she saw that Itachi was now sitting upright, his midnight hair draping over the broad curve of his shoulders. If she hadn't been red before, now she certainly was. Onyx held emerald with an intensity that had Sakura's heart beating a frantic rhythm; her palms broke out into a sweat and she could feel every line of her body tensed to flee or perhaps launch herself toward him.

Itachi studied her for a few moments, eyes running down the length of her body. "You look cold."

Sakura said nothing, fidgeting beneath the weight of his gaze. Trying not to stare at his body was like resisting chocolate. How could you resist such a delicious, naked man? And he obviously didn't care if she was cold otherwise he might have put a blanket on her when he came back to the room. Unless he did it deliberately and just expected her to go crawling to the bed when the low temperature proved too much to bear. That sounded highly more likely.

When her silence extended past a couple of seconds, the Yakuza leader chuckled softly before falling back against his bed, rolling onto his side like a cat. A firm, toned backside was all Sakura could really see and hastily stared down at the ground, furious. How dare he treat her this way and sleep naked in the room! Wasn't it supposed to be their room?

"You're more than welcome to sleep with me." Itachi's gravelly voice broke her out of musing.

"No thanks." Sakura said stiffly and marched her way back to the corner of the room before temptation could raise its ugly head. There were several others things she would have liked to say but considering he scared the wits out of her, she decided to bite her tongue. Settling down against the wall with her back to him, Sakura curled into a ball and shivered out her misery.

He probably expected women to just fall over themselves for the opportunity to be anywhere near him. Sakura wouldn't give him the satisfaction and resolutely readied herself for another couple of hours of praying for the sun to rise so she could take it all as just a bad dream.

The rustles of sheets had her jerking out of a light sleep only to find that it had been her making the noise. A couple of blankets had been draped neatly over her body.

Curious and weary, Sakura wriggled beneath the sheets to peer out from a gap in the cotton to see that the sun was creeping its light across the carpet and Itachi's bed was made and perfect with its adorning pillows. Her eyes were once again drawn to the sheets adorning her person before she flicked them off with a snort. Did he think she would so easily be swayed just because he put a few pieces of material on her?

Next thing he'd be buying her jewellery and expect her to follow him around like a happy puppy.

"He didn't put those on you if that's what is goin' through your head, pinkie."

Startled by the abrupt, growling voice, Sakura jumped up - attempted to - and got tangled in the sheets, landing hard on the carpet. It was only when she freed herself from the silky confines of the fabric did she realise Kisame was the one who had spoken. After all, who else would call her pinkie and have direct access to Itachi's room whenever he felt like it? Indignation flooded her system as the man all but pissed himself laughing. How was it her fault? Someone had all but cocooned her in the blankets.

And then she realised. "You put these sheets on me?"

"No shit."

Sakura stared at him, uncomprehending before letting out a gigantic sigh.

So much for hoping this had all been a bad dream.

"Now get your ass up. You've got thirty minutes to do whateva ya gotta do. Itachi expects you to be dressed and ready to go out."

Sakura bristled angrily and struggled out of the blankets. "What the hell for? I don't have to do anything he expects of me!"

"Well ya might wanna start, pinkie. He's taking you shopping to find a wardrobe more suited for his mistress."

"What the hell is a mistress!?" Sakura all but shouted, breathing hard and shaking the last blanket off her arm.

Kisame stared at her blankly, cocking his head to the side. "You've got to be kidding me." When she continued to stare at him with an expected look the man sighed and scratched the back of his head. This was awkward. "Well...uh...pinkie. A mistress, is...well. You're basically a sex slave."

Fainting would have been the expected response.

Or maybe starting to cry.

Yelling and screaming to the point it was irrational.

Sakura didn't do any of those things.

A smile began to pull at her lips and the nearest object (which happened to be the already ruined chair) came hurtling toward him. "I'm not being anyone's _sex slave_. Got that, _asshole_!"

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**Like it? Hate it? Please tell me, I beg you! Is there anything you wanna see Itachi do or one of the other characters? I'm open for suggestions!**

**I'm sorry it was so short. I wish it had been longer.**

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**The Lesson of Purpose is next on my list to update. Won't be too much longer hopefully.**

**See you next chapter dearies!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**** I'm so so so so so so so so SORRY. I didn't mean to take that long too update but I've been obsessed with my LOTR fic as of late. *bows* I also apologise that this is such a short chapter. I promise the next one will be longer. Pinky swear. **

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! I'm literally beaming every time I see a new one. Squeeee!**

**I do hope you like this, albeit, short chapter.**

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Freedom was a sweet scent; a tantalizing odour that none could refuse.

It was nothing more than an illusion.

People milled around; laughing, chatting and enjoying their day to day lives. Cars putted down the street. Shops magnetised potential buyers.

For all the reality of it all, Sakura remained a prisoner. Though she wasn't bound by chains or something as elaborate as a leash, the nurse was as helpless as an infant. Several members of Akatsuki were shadowing them. And by them it was of course Sakura and the infamous Itachi. Dressed in conservative clothes that consisted of jeans and a beige top, Sakura hunched her shoulders and stared resolutely ahead. Attempting to escape or call for help was pointless. The people around her confirmed that belief when nods of respect or people quickly scampering out of the way told her as much. Hong Kong was terrified of the Akatsuki and wouldn't lift a finger to help one female. Hell, Sakura was damn sure that Itachi _did_ own the police force here.

If escape was possible, she would be doing it on her own because no help would come from these people. Even though it was a hopeless venture Sakura intended to make a break for it - better to have tried than living in thought she may have escaped. As if to rub it in, Itachi kept his hand on her lower back, a consistent reminder that he was there. Sakura hated him.

Honestly, the man was so up himself it's a wonder he didn't waddle around with something up his backside. Yes, he had a nice body. Yes, he was probably rich enough to buy five Lear jets with cash to spare but so what? Unappreciative and impulsive, Sakura didn't understand how anyone could love this man or so willingly obey him.

Women and men stared at him as they passed, eyes wandering the length of his body coated in an expensive Armani suit and the familiar white overcoat draped over his shoulders. Even though Sakura couldn't see it, she was positive he had a gun somewhere on his person. As did the other Yakuza.

Sakura's eyes narrowed as they came into one of the busier intersections. Now would be the only opportunity. Without even a breath of hesitation, the nurse charged forward into the abyss of bodies, yelping as long fingers snagged in her hair but the momentum allowed a getaway - losing a clump of hair in the process. Scalp burning, eyes searing, Sakura shoved her way through the crowd, darting left, right and around to confuse followers.

Where did she go?

Where could she go?

Stooping slightly to conceal herself in the crowd, and ignoring the curious gazes of those she passed, Sakura wriggled through the mass, checking over her shoulder. Kisame blundered past, just barely three feet away, swearing furiously under his breath. Concealing a sly grin, Sakura darted into a nearby shop that reeked of money. Jesus she would have to run into Gucci. Pressing back against a mannequin dressed in something above her pay budget, Sakura watched from her peripheral as several more of the Akatsuki passed by.

Excitement and elation filled her body to the brim. "Thank God for that."

"You! What do you think you're doing?" A shrill, outraged woman's voice shrieked.

Sakura turned to come face to face with perhaps the tallest woman on Earth. Though that could be partially due to the six inch stilettos adorning her feet. This woman could have walked off a GQ magazine; beautiful with rich auburn hair cropped short, sharp, model-like features and brilliant teeth. Only reason Sakura knew that was because the woman was snarling and spitting like an angry cat.

"I was...looking?" Sakura stroked the fabric in an exaggerated fashion, trying to adopt the hopeless doe-eyed look of one fallen in love with a piece of material. The woman did not look convinced.

"You cannot afford any of this! Get out! Out, I say!" Making shooing gestures, the woman wrinkled her nose as though she smelt something bad.

Feeling her hackles ark, Sakura placed her hands on her hips, heart racing and breath coming out in a rush. Though logic would dictate she back off and run for fear of the Akatsuki tracking her down, Sakura's stubbornness would not allow it. People like this fake woman needed to be taught a lesson. Or perhaps a good kick in the dental work. Standing to her impressive height of five foot three Sakura glowered at the tall woman, anger fuelling her temper and therein her voice.

"You have no right to say that to me! How can you judge a book by its cover? I could be ten times richer than you and dress in rags!" Sakura mentally winced at that considering the bitch probably thought of her clothes as rags anyway. Designer logos did not exist in Sakura's wardrobe and never would as far as she was concerned.

"I highly doubt it." Sneering, the woman lost all illusion of beauty and became nothing more than a middle-aged hag with a face of makeup and thousands wasted on plastic surgery.

Sakura opened her mouth to make a swift rebuttal when the strangest expression crossed the woman's face; something between awe, fear and lust. Frowning, the nurse glared in befuddlement at the taller woman when a smooth voice cut through the tense silence.

Sakura froze.

"Ah, sweetheart. There you are. I was wondering where you'd run off to." Strong, resisting fingers clamped tightly about Sakura's hip, squeezing warningly as he came to stand by her side. Tall, imposing and devastatingly handsome, it was a wonder the saleswoman didn't faint where she stood. Instead something bizarre happened; gone was the vicious cat-like woman and was replaced by the perfect model Sakura had first seen.

"Mr Uchiha, I was just telling your young friend about my selection of clothes that would adore her figure! You simply must let me work with her!"

The only reason the model's nose was still intact was because Itachi held Sakura back. How dare she! Burning emeralds of fire willed the woman to combust into flames, hands clenching and unclenching. What would adore the bitch's figure would be a good boot up the backside. Sakura took a step forward to give the woman a piece of her mind (or fist, whichever came first) until Itachi's fingers tightened and tugged her back against his chest. Only then was she reminded that escape had become impossible. A cold fear settled into her throat, making her vitally aware of the dangerous man behind her. It was easy to forget about the other woman in that instance.

Sakura was nearly trembling in Itachi's unforgiving grip; not because it hurt (which it didn't) but the vibe that seemed to seep straight through her skin and into nerves that he was beyond angry. Denying that she was downright terrified of him would be foolish because there was no way in hell it was possible not to be. Even the fake woman had enough sense to be weary. Only, she wasn't on the receiving end of a gun-wielding Yakuza nor had she tried to escape from one.

"Indeed." Itachi's tone was flat and uninterested. Onyx eyes drilled into the woman, making her flinch and the wanning smile dropped just a smidgin. Sakura could clearly see the bitch was scared shitless of Itachi. And as far as she could tell, Itachi had been within ear shot long enough to know that that had not been what the woman was saying to Sakura. The fact that he'd been able to sneak up on her was terrifying. "See to it Miss Yagamani."

"Of course, sir. This way, please." Miss Yagamani led the way further into the shop, Sakura just a step behind with the imposing Yakuza leader almost treading on her heels. Though he was no longer touching her, he may as well have been for all the ants marching up and down her spine. Being a black belt didn't really save her from the situation. Sakura clenched her fists, feeling her heart hammering against her ribcage. Acutely aware of the man behind her, calculations ran rampant through her mind.

Kakashi-sensei had always taught her that size was not everything; that there was strength to be found in a smaller opponent if you were wise enough to utilise it. Sakura glanced at the shops surroundings from her peripheral, noting the racks of clothes that could provide welcome obstacles. That idea was scratched when up ahead came two of the Akatsuki members, having apparently entered from the back door. Miss Yagamani reeled back in surprise, a shriek flying from her lips at the appearance of the tall, hulking form of Kisame. Sasori raised a brow at the woman.

"I'm sorry, miss. Did we frighten you?" The red-head said.

Rushing to compose herself Miss Yagamani immediately changed from frightened, to bubbly and pleasant. "A little! But no harm done. You sirs are with Mr. Uchiha?"

"Obviously." Kisame grunted, grinning as the woman's skin seemed to lose its colour.

Ducking her head with a murmured apology, Miss Yagamani now led the three men and thoroughly perturbed Sakura to a viewing room with at least four mirrors. Unable to protest, Sakura was turned into a doll for Itachi's viewing pleasure. From casual wear to formal, the nurse bit her tongue throughout. What good would it do to protest anyway? All she'd get was a look from Kisame and Sasori. An expectant glance from Itachi, and a sneer from Miss Yagamani.

Entirely pointless.

Sakura heaved a shaky sigh in the clothing cubicle, removing a silky jade dress that she hated to admit was rather pretty. And sported a price tag to match. Eyes moving to the wall, several other dresses and clothing anomalies (that she dare not think about) lined the coat hooks. Itachi was going out of his way to buy new, expensive clothing for her. And she was damn sure it had nothing to do with repaying her for saving his life. She snorted. No, this was all too do with image. Sakura would be damned if she wore any of these beautiful...expensive...dresses.

The lingerie she would burn, of course. Even though Itachi had had the decorum to allow her not to try them on in front of him, he obviously expected to see them at some stage. Not bloody likely. Going so far as to be spontaneous, Sakura peered up at the ceiling, eyes scanning for a ventilation system. The air conditioning unit was right above; a huge, old tattered heap of machinery that would likely cause more harm than good even if she managed to get up there. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Sakura was resigned to call defeat...at least for the moment. If only she hadn't let her temper get a hold of her. The time it took to argue with Miss Yagamani could have been better applied by flagging a taxi or maybe continuing to run.

Slipping on her average, non-descript clothes, Sakura made a face in the mirror. A ten minute shower this morning had only allowed for so many female necessities. She hadn't been game enough to take the full half hour just in case one of them had barged in on her. Hair had been left to run its rampant way, and her eyes were dark from lack of sleep. See, makeup wasn't just useful for making one pretty. It hid the remnants of a bad night's sleep. And judging by the company and the situation at hand, Sakura would need to be prepared for it.

"Yo, bitch. Open the door. Let's see what you look like with your clo-yow!"

Sakura nearly leapt out of her skin as the door to the cubicle buckled, shuddering as a large weight collided with it. And she was damn sure it was Deidara.

"If you don't shut your mouth I'll shut it for you. Got it?" Kisame growled.

"Jesus, yo. Fine. I don't wanna know what the bitch looks like without her clothes off anyway." Retreating footsteps along with Deidara's muttered grumble told Sakura he had done the wise thing and gone off to God knows where. If Sakura had to gander a guess as to Kisame's show of aggression towards Deidara, it could only be assumed that he did it because Itachi gave some description of a signal. Cause she was damn sure that it hadn't been due to his concern for Sakura being called a bitch. Glaring at the door, Sakura shoved it open without preamble only to falter when she just about walked straight into Itachi.

Strong, elegant fingers latched onto her forearm, tugging her against the solid planes of his chest as onyx eyes bore down, straight into her soul. Sakura did not tremble. Or scream. Or snarl or scowl. Emerald eyes did not waver as she returned his stare tenfold, chancing whatever punishment (and she was damn sure there would be) he would throw at her. A ghost of a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips before he leaned down so close that his lips touched her ear.

Sakura's eyes widened, feeling her pulse hammer as his hot breath washed over her skin. "Tonight you will do as I tell you. Your punishment for trying to escape will begin at eight o'clock."

White, sizzling anger drove through her bloodstream so fast it made Sakura dizzy but did not stop her from stabbing a finger into his chest. "What the hell gives you the righ-ah!"

What could you do? What did you do? When a powerful, handsome, dangerous man sexually accosted you in the middle of a shop? Sakura couldn't breathe - didn't dare breath, merely staring up into his eyes with something close to shock horror sparkling in her emerald depths. Muscles locked and went into spasm, and the centre point of her concentration was on tapered fingers pressed intimately against her crotch. The other Akatsuki were busy collecting Sakura's new clothes, ignoring Miss Yagamani as she jabbered on about saying it was 'on the house'.

Itachi's expression was blank and uninterested; only his eyes remained dark, sparkling with something vaguely sinister. "You were saying?"

"Fuc-gaaah!" Sakura very nearly screamed as his fingers pushed unforgivingly against her, knees buckling at the intense sensation. There was no pleasure to be found for Itachi Uchiha meant for it to hurt. And hurt it did. Feeling tears prick the back of her eyes, Sakura refused to scream or cry, glaring at him with all that she had. Breath whooshed out of her lungs in a loud yelp as his fingers dug into the sensitive flesh, pressing on the pelvic bone itself. By golly did it hurt like hell. "S-stop!"

Cocking his head to the side with a raised brow, Itachi watched, seemingly bored as the pink-haired woman all but crumpled against him, sweat soaking her brow from the effort to refrain from screaming. He had to admit her attempt was admirable. But foolish. "And why should I do that?"

Sakura clung to his broad shoulders with her free hand, the other still clutched in his firm grip. It was all she could do to keep herself centred. Never had Sakura experienced agony such as this - not even in the dojo. How such an area that could bring pleasure but also pain in the right pressure points was beyond recognition. All Sakura knew that his hand was in a place it shouldn't be, and it fucking hurt. But what could she do? Beg him? Explain that it was inappropriate and cruel? All rational thought skipped out of her brain as his fingers just went that distance harder and any control she possessed evaporated.

There wasn't room for thought that he was the leader of Yakuza.

Nor that he had a gun on his person.

Sakura screamed. Thrashed. Clawed. Bit. Everything she had, Sakura all but smothered Itachi with her anger.

Itachi Uchiha was the notorious leader of the Akatsuki Yakuza, and a mere slip of a girl decided to throw a temper tantrum on him? Oblivious to the stares of his follows, Itachi dodged and side stepped all of her futile attacks, still with a merciless grip on her arm though he had had to vacate his torture from between her legs. Such a shame, too. Maybe if she'd behaved herself he might have been gentle.

Sakura couldn't stand it. The amused glint in his eyes. The slight quirk of his mouth. Everything about him; his manner, looks and personality drove her up the wall. And to top it all off, he'd kidnapped her. Sexually molested, and manhandled her. How much was a woman supposed to take before she lost it completely?

No matter how hard she tried to hurt him, Itachi evaded Sakura's attempts every time before someone in particular tired of her defiance.

Kisame, grumbling and muttering to himself, walked up behind the thrashing female, picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. "Knock it off, pinkie."

"Put me down! I'll kill him! I'll fucking kill him! And you. You and you, and you!" Sakura pointed to Itachi, Kisame's shoulder buried beneath her nose and every other Akatsuki within eyesight. "None of you will get away with this, ya hear!"

Miss Yagamani tentatively approached Itachi as he watched Kisame stride away with a screaming, fuming pink-haired woman over his shoulder. "Mr Uchiha? Will that be all today?"

Allowing his eyes to once more traverse Sakura's flushed, angry face, onyx eyes moved to centre on the model who squeaked beneath his powerful gaze. "I believe your store sports a section for private functions."

Flushing, Miss Yagamani bobbed her head. "Y-yes Mr Uchiha. Bondage. Dominance and submission. Any and all equipment you may require." Her heart dropped to her stomach and heat grew between her thighs as his eyes flooded to black.

"Show me."

* * *

**Besides the horrible length, like it? Hate it? Think Itachi is too dark? Think Itachi isn't dark enough?**

**His character will become more pronounced as the story progresses but I will give a little spoiler. He ain't always gonna be an asshole.**

**I'm off to LOTR fic now, dearies. I promise the next update will be longer and sooner!**


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